Come Home Soon
by CrashAgainstMySkin
Summary: The struggles of missing someone


A/N: Okay this is so overly due, but I just couldn't rest until this was done. This is dedicated to WolfB1tch; this was supposed to be to part of your wish list, so yeah forgive me for the belated gift. Hope you like it. Oh and see if you can catch on as to who one of the characters is supposed to be.

Disclaimer: I own nothing mentioned in this story. Purely for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

My alarm clock blares in my ear as I hear the beginning intro to _The Ballad of Mona Lisa_. I take the end of my pillow and press it over my head to block out all the sound.

Today was the start of the week I was dreading the most. The school talent show. For two weeks I've been told by countless people to participate and my answer still remains the same. No!

I let out a low growl knowing that my mother's shrill voice will soon block out my alarm. As if on cue my name is shouted startling anyone in a five mile radius. I scream a loud obnoxious noise making sure she understands I'm awake.

I turn up the volume of my radio alarm clock and prepare myself for the day ahead. I sit up in bed and take in my familiar surroundings. Most people find it strange but I feel a sense of comfort from my black bedroom walls. Besides they match my dark blue bedspread. At least I think so.

"Sweetie, hurry up. I have to head into the office early," my mother shouts up to me. I open the door to let her know I'll be down in a minute. I slam the door hard making all my framed posters shake against the wall. My mother yells something most likely due to my door slamming but I can barely hear her over the music. _Sugar We're Going Down _is now playing and I hum along to the tune.

I slip on my torn jeans and grab a clean shirt from my closet. I put my green flannel shirt over it and put my messy tangled red hair into a ponytail. I apply a little eye liner and dash down the stairs, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror. I've never been one to care about my appearance so why start now?

I get to the kitchen to see my mom fumbling around in the cabinets. I can hear her grumbling to herself about coffee filters. I let out a tiny little snicker as I make my way to the counter, but as soon as I take a seat, my doc martins are placed quite angrily in front of me. I look up to see my mom give me a not so thrilled look. I scrunch down in my seat hoping she doesn't beat me. Though raising hand to anyone in this house is forbidden.

"Stop leaving your shoes in the middle of the living room. I almost broke my nose this morning," she says to me as she turns back around to continue to search through our cabinets.

"Well you look fine to me," I reply trying to brighten the mood. She turns back around to give me one of those mom glares but it soon spreads into a smile. I return the smile and grab an orange out of the fruit bowl.

"I would have said the exact same thing to your grandmother," she snorts. "You are definitely my daughter."

"Dad would have said I was just like him," I mumble while peeling the orange skin off my choice of fruit. I know my mom heard me because she stopped searching for coffee filters to look over at me. I ignored her expression of empathy and continued peeling.

"Here," she said while placing a knife beside me and a cup of lemonade. I met her eyes and gave her a soft smile. She went back to her task at hand but gave up shortly afterward. "I'll just pick up a cup of coffee on my way to work," she states to no one in particular.

I chuckle to myself as I cut my orange through the middle and open the first half to peel off the slices. I sense my mom watching me and I look up to see her making a confused face. "What," I ask laughing slightly.

"Why do you eat your oranges like that?"

"Beats me," I say as I pop another orange slice into my mouth.

"Your father and I will never understand that," she says after sometime but shortly regretting it after seeing my face. "I want to talk to you about something," she says suddenly making her way over to me. "It's about the school talent show."

"No," I snap annoyed that she would even bring this up. She off all people knows how much I don't want to do it.

"I know you don't want to do it, but Mr. Simpson called me and told me that he really thinks you should be in it. You have a gift and you should show it."

"No, no, and a hundred times NO!"

"C'mon Jul-"

"I said no. Can we just drop it...please," I ask almost begging.

"Yeah sure...," she said trailing off. "Grab your stuff, we have to go."

I nod and throw away my orange carcass and put on my boots. I snatch my messenger bag from the end of the staircase and hop into the front seat of the car and strap myself in. My mom looks over at me and I can see her opening her mouth to talk. "Don't," I stop her before she can speak. She nods and pulls out of the driveway. It's a silent car ride to Degrassi and I'm thankful for the peace.

When she pulls up in front of the school I unbuckle myself and reach over to grab my stuff from the backseat. As I open the passenger door my mom places a hand on my shoulder. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn to look at her. She has tears in her eyes and I instantly regret the anger I felt moments ago.

"I miss him too," is all she says before placing both hands on the steering wheel and staring straight ahead. I nod slowly and step out of the car feeling the tears well up in my eyes. Once I shut the car door, I watch my mom wipe away a tear before heading off to work. That's all it takes because before I know it, I'm wiping a few stray tears of my own before I head off into the direction of the double doors that lead to eight hours of hell.

As I make my way into the dull halls of Degrassi, I am ambushed by two girls. They are bouncing and speaking so fast I can't make out what any of them are saying. I'm about to say something very cruel when my best friend pulls me away. "Sorry ladies, but she's got a big date with Justin Beiber later that I need to prepare her for," he says shielding me from Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum.

He leads me away from the main entrance and as soon as were out sight I smack him so hard he stumbles back. "Seriously, I should kick your ass for that," I exclaim frustrated.

"Ow! You know normally people say thank you," he replies rubbing his shoulder where I hit him.

"Stop being a baby. And I didn't need your help. I could have handled those two by myself. Besides now those two idiots think I have a date with Mr. No Talent."

"Um I was just trying to save you a trip to the principal's office," he answers laughing.

"Doesn't matter I need to talk to him anyway," I answer bitterly.

"Why? Because of the paparazzi," he asks referring to the girls.

"No...He keeps harassing my mom about the damn talent show."

"Ugh, would you just sign up already?"

"What the hell Cam," I yell taken aback.

"I'm tired of hearing about. Just tell them you'll do it so they shut up," he replies defending himself.

"Can't," I answer stiffly.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because it's my choice and I don't want to do it."

"It's because of your dad isn't it," he asks softly. I shoot him a glare and he backs off. "Sorry."

"I'm sorry," I sigh. "I shouldn't have hit you...I guess I'm just on edge about everything."

"Why?"

"Because my moms trying to help and I'm not making it easy for her. I feel like a shitty daughter."

"Your not," he replies while pulling me into a hug.

"Thanks," I sigh while pulling away after our embrace. I give Cam a small smile and head for my locker. Cam follows behind me in oh so familiar silence.

We finally reach my locker and see a nice handwritten note attached to the front. I rip it off and toss it to the floor. Cam bends down to retrieve it and decides to read it for my sake.

"The man wishes to speak to you," he says handing me the note.

"Come with me?"

"I don't think so."

"Please," I beg. I give him my best puppy dog face and he ultimately gives in. After about ten minutes at my locker we make our to the principals office. I don't bother to knock and just go in.

Simpson automatically looks up from his desk and smiles. I smile back and go to sit down, but I'm side tracked by the presence of Ms. Sauvé.

"What is she doing here," I ask gesturing to the school guidance counselor as I take a seat in front of the principal's desk.

He ignores my question being diverted by Cam. He smiles brightly at him and gets up to hug him. "Logan, what are you doing here?"

A smile creeps on my face at the word 'Logan'. Cam really doesn't like his first name, and normally gives people hell who call him by his birth name. The only ones that are allowed to call him Logan are his immediate family.

"Jules needed me as back up," he replies casually.

"Did not," I exclaim defensively.

"Well if you don't mind Logan, I would like to speak to her privately."

"No prob," he answers heading for the door.

"Tell your mom I'll call her later."

"Will do," he says over his shoulder as he exits the room. Simpson shuts the door behind him and turns back towards his desk.

"What's Ms. Sauvé doing here," I ask again hoping for an answer. He peers over at the woman and takes a minute before speaking.

"We want to talk to you about what's going on at home." The minute he mentions the word 'home' I prepare myself to leave. There's no way in hell I'm talking about what's going on at home with my principal.

"I don't think so," I say hastily as I grab my bag and get up from my seat. Ms. Sauvé does the same as she stops me by the door. I glare at her but she ignores my cruel stare.

"Please Julia, were only here to help," Ms. Sauvé says calmly placing her arm around my shoulders and leading me back to my previous seat. I keep silent as my school guidance counselor stands by my principal.

After awhile Simpson begins to speak, "We know it's been tough at home with your father gone. Your mother worries about you-"

"Does she know about this little meeting," I yell interrupting him as I look back and forth between Simpson and Sauvé.

"No she doesn't, but after talking to Joey and your mother we thought this might be beneficial," he speaks after sometime.

Joey? Why the hell was my entire family talking about me behind my back? There was nothing wrong!

I scoff and turn my head. I can't look at either one of them right now and biting my tongue is getting harder and harder to do.

"It might help if you tell us how your feeling," Ms. Sauvé asks after a moment of awkward silence.

"You don't want to know how I'm feeling. I might get suspended from all the obscenities I'm about to scream," I say still not looking at either one of them.

"Well that's a start," Simpson says lightly. I'm assuming he's trying to lighten the mood but it's not working. I'm still extremely pissed.

"Just explain how your feeling," Ms. Sauvé states gently.

"I'm feeling anger at the moment. I'm angry that people won't stay out of my business. I'm not

doing anything wrong! Why can't you all leave me alone?"

"Are you angry that your father isn't around more often?"

"No...," I trail off fearing my voice might waver at any moment.

"Then how do you feel about your father's absence?"

"I don't like it, okay," I scream finally looking up. "Happy? I don't like that he's gone...I miss him..."

"Why don't you ever talk about it then," Ms. Sauvé pushes.

"Because I don't want people to see me weak like that," I answer quietly.

"Missing someone doesn't make you weak," Simpson responds kindly. "Is this why you won't do the talent show? It reminds you of your father?"

"What is it with this damn talent show," I exclaim. "Why do you keep pushing me do it, is it because of my background? Will it get you a lot of buzz for me to be in it? Sorry to break it to you but my father won't be there to attend the festivities, so your just gonna have to find another way to profit from it."

"That's not what this about...You still didn't answer my question."

"I don't want to remind my mom of why he isn't here. So yes, it is about my dad, plus what's the point of doing it when the one person I want to be there is off somewhere in the states."

"Maybe that's the best way to let out how your feeling," Ms. Sauvé adds sincerely. "If you love to sing and write music, don't let fear stop you."

"Your mom will support you no matter what. She loves you and it's killing her to see you like this. Your mother is strong, and participating in the talent show won't remind her of anything other than your happiness," Mr. Simpson adds.

I nod my head unable to form words. There's a stinging sensation in my eyes and I know I'm about to cry. I turn my head away from them trying to stop the tears from coming. "I'll do the talent show," I state after a few moments. "Can I go now?"

"Of course," Simpson says gently getting up to open the door. I give him a feeble smile and walk out.

Once the door is shut I quickly walk out of the school office. I make a beeline for the girl's bathroom and hide myself in a stall. The minute I know I'm alone I release all of the emotions I've been feeling in the past two hours. Tears stream down my face as I think of how much I miss my father.

* * *

Throughout the rest of week I sat up in my room writing lyrics. After my little 'intervention', I was inspired to write a new song. I've been keeping it quite private for the most part so I'm a little anxious on how everyone will perceive it.

I look at myself in the dressing tables mirror and take sight of my reflection. I still look relatively like myself except, my messy red mane is now tamed and perfectly straightened. I'm wearing a black blazer and matching dress pants with my trademark doc martins. My makeup is done ever so lightly. I'm wearing a little blush and some lip gloss. My eyes are darkened by my black eyeliner and eyeshade. The color really makes my green eyes pop and I feel like a total girly girl. I want to vomit.

To take my mind off how ridiculous I look, I pick up my guitar and begin to tune it. "Jules," my mother exclaims rushing to greet me backstage. I look up from my guitar to see her make her way to me. I put my guitar down and walk into her open arms for a hug. She kisses the top of my head and breaks the embrace. I look behind her to see my uncle Marco.

"Hi Uncle Marco," I say reaching him for a quick hug.

"Hey mini Elle," he replies reciprocating the hold. I pull away and grimace at the nickname he uses for me. No daughter ever wants to be called a miniature of their mother.

"Could you please stop calling me that?"

"Not until you stop looking like your mother," He replies evenly. I groan as my mother wraps her arm around me and squeezes.

"Is there something wrong with looking like me," she asks with mock hurt. I shake my head and laugh as my uncle shrugs. That earns him light smack from my mother that soon results into a fit of giggles. "Besides I think she looks more like her father."

"She's you in all sense of the word, except for her smile. She has Craig's smile."

"She does have his smile," my mother says sweetly looking down at me. I smile as her eyes light up. She seems so happy. "Anyway I have to go meet your grandparents and aunt by the entrance, I'll see you out there. Love you sweetie, good luck," she says giving me a quick peck on my temple. "Marco you coming," she calls back from behind.

"In a minute," he shouts back. She hurries out and then I'm left alone with my uncle. He turns his attention back to me and places both hands on my shoulder. "Your mother's proud of you, you know that right?"

"I know," I reply softly.

"She's tries to be strong for everyone and no one is ever really there to be strong for her...I want you to know that's not your job. She knows how much you miss him and wishes that you would just talk to her about instead of dealing with it by yourself."

I nod my head and give him a smile. He means the best and is only looking out for my mom and I love him for that. "Thanks Uncle Marco, I will," I say after sometime and hug him in appreciation.

"Good luck out there," he replies after pulling away and heading for the door. I watch as he leaves and take a deep breathe. Tonight is gonna be a long night and I hope I can get through it.

It takes about two hours to go through all the acts. Because I signed up at the last minute I'm closing, and I hate it! There's nothing worse than watching twenty or something kids take the stage as you sit backstage and watch everything unfold. My anticipation rises as each student goes up to perform and before I know it, it's my turn.

I walk up to the stage slowly with my guitar in hand. I feel my knees shake as I awkwardly situate myself up onto the stool. I adjust the microphone to my height and stare out into the crowd. The lights are blinding at first and I use my hands to block it out of my face. After a few minutes my eyes adjust and I find the courage to speak.

"Um...Hi everyone...my names Julia Manning and this is a song I wrote about my father. Please be kind."

I clear my throat and begin to the play the intro. I close my eyes and let my hair fall in my face. Suddenly I feel free and invigorating. I bob my head to the music as the crowd disappears and I'm left alone just playing this song in my room.

I begin to sing and find my voice is steady. The fear of having a shaky voice is now gone and as I hear my singing echoing through the speakers I open my eyes slowly, staring out into the audience. I sing of home and what it was like when I was little when he was around. I talk about how I try to be strong when he's away and how I wish he would come home soon.

The song is coming to a close and with every chorus my pitch becomes higher. I'm surprised by my range but I don't let it show. I close my eyes as I conclude the song with a high pitch that gradually becomes lower. I strum the last chord and open my eyes slowly.

The crowd is silent for a moment but then breaks out into a roaring applause. I smile hugely and get up from the stool. I catch sight of my mom crying and being held by a dark figure. I assume it's my uncle and take a bow. I wave to the audience as I walk off stage.

When I get backstage I let out a sigh of relief that turns into a chuckle of laughter. I can't stop smiling as everyone congratulates me. I walk up to my station and kneel down and place my guitar back into its case and lock it.

"That was amazing."

I stop in my tracks as I take in the voice from behind me. I get up slowly and turn around fearing my mind is playing a trick on me. I lose my breath as I look at the man standing before me.

"Dad..." I whisper barely audible.

"Hey Julie," he smiles. His tall frame stands beside my mother as she smiles hugely at the reunion before her eyes.

"Daddy," I cry as I fling myself into his arms and bury my head into the crook of his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me tightly as I cry into his neck. Normally I hold it together and never show my weaknesses in public but I could care less right now.

He manages to pull away from my tight embrace and I can't stop myself from sobbing as he tries to shush me. I try to stifle my sobs as I struggle to keep it together. "Shhh...Julie, it's okay, I'm here...stop crying."

"That's why I'm crying," I choke out. "I thought you were in New York or LA or something. What are you doing here," I ask looking up at him smiling.

He laughs lightly, "I wouldn't miss this for the world," He says pulling me into another hug. I hug back tightly afraid this is all just a dream. I pull away this time wiping away tears that still cascade down my face. I look up to see his own eyes sparkling and I smile brightly.

"I missed you," I tell him, my expression softening a little bit. He smiles and kisses my forehead.

"I missed you too little girl...I love you."

"I love you too daddy."

* * *

A/N: Okay so I hope you all like this. I imagined Julia's voice to resemble Amy Lee's so try to picture that I guess. I worked really hard on it and I hope you all enjoyed it. Please read and review and let me know what you think.


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